


Routine Procedure

by Simply_Isnt_On



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock - Fandom, Supernatural, Superwholock - Fandom
Genre: Gen, I don't know, I skipped the action bit here, Mental Hospital, it's all about the characters meeting in drabbles, mention of previous fic, sorry if you were looking for action, you won't find it here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-04 23:31:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simply_Isnt_On/pseuds/Simply_Isnt_On
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt "Superwholock. Mental hospital…run by demons." I'm really not sure either...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Routine Procedure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lazysparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lazysparrow).



> I'm still on Season 2 of Spn, be gentle with me...  
> Also, this is about ten months after the previous story in this series about unicorns. It seemed appropriate.

“No! Amy, I do not do demons! Last time it nearly ate Rose-“

“Oh, come on, Doctor, don’t be such a spoilsport.” Amy pouted.

***

Sherlock checked himself in as a mental patient, after copious reassurances from Mycroft that he’d be able to get him out again.

That didn't mean he liked the mental exam, or being assigned a roommate.

That didn’t mean he found it reassuring when a blue box appeared in his room and a goofy-looking young man in a bow-tie and a Scottish redhead in a nightie stepped out.

***

This was routine by now, the whole mental hospital situation. That didn’t mean that Sam liked being interrogated about his “road trip” with his brother any more than he did last time.

Didn’t mean he liked sneaking in on trolleys with Dean pretending to be a nurse.

And he definitely didn’t like sharing a room with a snobby Brit and hallucinating a blue box with strangely-dressed people step out of it. He turned to look at his roommate, eyes wide.

“You saw that, right?”

***

Three hours and a burning hospital full of screaming demons later, and Sam was holding a glob of silvery metal in his hands, a rueful look on his face. “Really, Doctor, you didn’t  _have_  to melt it, you know.”

The Doctor scowled- “I hate guns!”- and stalked back to the TARDIS where the Scot- Amy- was waiting, and they watched as the box disappeared.

Sherlock buttoned his jacket cuff and strode over to the Winchesters. “Just so we’re clear on this, I am  _not_  possessed, and I am not a  _mental patient_. And neither of you are Homeland Security. And the next time you muck about on one of my crime scenes, you will regret leaving thirty-seven guns and assorted knives and ammo beneath a false floor in your car boot.”

He nodded, then plucked a Belstaff coat from a surviving trolley, and crossed the road to slip into a waiting black car.

Sam stared. He really liked that coat.


End file.
